


Detention

by mettwho



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Fluff, M/M, Omorashi, Prison, Prison Sex, Serial Killer Gerard Way, Serial Killers, Smut, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, cell mates, gerard has a mask, gerard is a good boy, probably won't be finished for a while, soft gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mettwho/pseuds/mettwho
Summary: One was convicted of slaughtering 12 people and selling illegal drugs.The other was convicted of killing over 70 people.The biggest difference is that one was innocent.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so uh I've never written fanfiction before but I thought hey, I'm an edgy teenager, I should give it a shot. Lemme know what you think if you read it :)

12 shot dead. Immense amounts of illegal drugs found in his house.

Anyone convicted of these crimes is totally and completely fucked. For life. 

40 years in prison. 40 years or until death. Seems fair.

There's only one problem.

Frank didn't do it.


	2. Chapter 2

I was standing in the middle of a dark empty room. For a second I wondered if my eyes were open, considering how pitch black the space around me was. I held my breath and took a step forward, unwillingly. I felt unsteady on my feet as I was forced to take another step into the black emptiness of the landscape around me. I wanted to speak, to see if this hellscape of darkness was holding anything other than the absence of light. As soon as I opened my mouth, a figure appeared out of nowhere a small distance away from me. I closed my mouth and took a couple more cautious steps forward. I inhaled sharply, finally seeing the figure that I had been walking towards. It was a guy, who looked like he was around my age, although several inches taller, facing the opposite direction.

His hair was died a violent red, and there was a black strap across the back of his head, indicating that he was wearing a mask. He was wearing a bloodstained prison jumper with a number written in blood on his jumpsuit many times. The same number. Seventy three. I took an involuntary step back as he slowly turned around to face me directly. The man was indeed wearing a mask, but his unkempt red hair obscured most of it. I, again, opened my mouth to say something, but abruptly stopped when he slowly lifted his right hand toward his face. His long fingers grazed the bottom of his chin, hooking under the mask. The other hand reached around the back of his head to lift the strap holding the mask to his face. Apart from these small movements, he was completely still.

He began lifting the mask off of his face as he took a small step closer to me. His left hand reached up to touch my face, but he paused before his fingers touched the side of my face. Upon closer inspection, I couldn't see into the one eyehole of his mask that was visible under his long hair. When he finally lifted the mask off of his face, there was nothing underneath. He was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke with a start and banged my head with immeasurable force on the empty bunk above me. Rubbing my sore forehead, I inhaled the bittersweet scent of my filthy cell. The smell of failure and misery and sin. The smell of criminals broken and unbroken alike. Of poor hygiene, of shitty prison food, of men who have done unforgivable things and the sickening scent of un-healable illnesses. Despite this, I laughed to myself, realizing how pessimistic I am. Although I guess it is hard to be very optimistic when you've been convicted and incarcerated for something you've never done

 

this chapter isn't done lmao I just don't know how archive works...

**Author's Note:**

> oof


End file.
